What is an author? The person who writes down the story, someone who could create a whole new world with just a pencil and pen, or are they just a person stuck with telling events that others might not even listen too. As an author it is their job to give an intro, middle and end.
The reader is given the choice to read the story and once they come to that fateful ending, they're upset. Maybe they hated the ending? It was too sweet or depressing for their tastes. Or maybe they just never wanted the end to come. The fateful, "and they all lived happily ever after" was the ending they liked but not the one they wanted.
The end. Game over. Simple words that we don't want to ever see. Like death coming and sweeping away a loved one. It was their time to go. But, you weren't ready for them to leave. Well, then you blame the author; it was their fault anyway. They could of easily continued the book, or even made it into a series. What if they couldn't?
Like this one, was it caused by a vision, a vision into another world, one that may only exist in one's mind? Or what if they weren't allowed to? Like this one, the rites to the characters were not theirs. The characters life out living the story and changing from their ideas.
Now, I may be borrowing a few characters and scenes. Plots seeming to collide as two worlds join in this story telling. If, though, you become distraught by the words I'm writing… I'll but have to stop and watch my visions. Does their story change, if not I'll be forced to continue. Will the story change, who knows?
As a friend of mine once said, "Nothing is written in stone," but don't rely only on that. Steps must be taken to take prevention. Sadly, if you hate me as a writer I'll eventually have to concede and hand this story off to another. So, who I am is never important, as I might not always be the same being. But to the same address this will be sent for someone else to deicide whether to post or not.
Don't blame them if they decide so, as they never wrote it and were never alone in their decision. This may seem unimportant now, as just maybe an author's words of worry whispered to you. But, try not to throw away their words as nothing but my ravings. For sometimes… only time can tell…
Yes, and that is where our story starts. High in a clock tower was a being that watched over the time-stream and time itself. His age was unknown as his appearance did change. Some believed him to be but a child's myth and others knew better. He floated in place watching the parade from above with his red eyes. They narrowed as this master of time watched a black haired boy walk into a small town.
His name was Clockwork, although he did actually have many other names. With a sigh though he turned to meet his guests. The two Observants visit came as no surprise to Clockwork. "How long are you going to let that child mess up the time-stream?" They seemed to growl. Clockwork turned back to his screen and smirked. "You call on me to act… to do your dirty work, yet you order me not to interfere. I assure you my ward is acting on his own volition," Clockwork stated, "Now, go back to observing the door."
Clockwork watched the blue-eyed boy carefully. Danny Fenton was after all his ward. A job the ghost quite liked. The boy went to a quiet little house that was by the forest. Danny was a small town boy born and raised. Many thought he lived his whole life in the sunny town of Amity Park. They would be wrong though. No, his life started in an even smaller town. One he was returning to after the disaster of his past home was over the news. And, so the intro is finished with Danny moving back to his oldest home in Washington, Forks.
AN: My sister challenged me to write one whole story in one day. Each chapter had to be close to 1,000 words excluding the intro an ending. Plus there had to be more than three chapters. If I get at least 1 review by ten I have to upload the rest of the story. Thanks for reading! :)